


A pain to great to fathom

by Afaye



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Belle - Freeform, Doppelganger, F/M, False Memory, Grief, Mistress, Sad, Tea cup, curse, lacey - Freeform, twin, wife - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 12:08:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5090138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Afaye/pseuds/Afaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr. Gold remembers his wife, the beautiful angel, Belle. He couldn't bear her death, couldn't live without seeing her face every morning. So he found Lacey, her twin,  indebted to him. He keeps her, hoping it would be a way to get Belle back. At least that is what he remembers.</p><p>Lacey loves Gold. But she knows how he feels about her. A poor copy of her sister. When Regina promised Rumplestiltskin comfort, she never spoke about happiness. So what better way to make him suffer than to dangle his true love in front of him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A pain to great to fathom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [belizafryler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/belizafryler/gifts).



> For KindleHeartzyou. This is my angsty piece. Your move.

Lacey knew exactly what place she had in Gold's life. She was the whore who wore his dead wife's face. Belle had always been the braver sister. She didn't let anyone take her decisions. She was free, bright and charismatic, like a bonfire on a cold winter night. She had been the apple of their father's eyes, till of course, she had done the crazy thing, fall in love with Gold. She hadn't cared a damn about Moe's protests, getting married and knocked up with Gold's child within half a year of meeting him. Her father swore that Gold would hurt Belle, but even she could see how much the man adored her sister. He worshipped the very ground she walked on, showered her with riches and jewels that Lacey could admire only from a distance. When Belle announced she was pregnant, he had collapsed on his knees, eyes shining with happiness. She had felt so jealous, no one ever looked at her like that. Bar fly Lacey. They called her. The drinks took the edge off what a failure she was. Belle was a qualified librarian. Lacey had never been to college. They never had the money. Belle had received so many scholarships, she was spoilt for choice. Lacey just hung around on the fringes, taking online courses, she could bar tend on a jam packed Saturday night, kareoke to every song on the jukebox, waitress for nights without sleeping a wink. If Belle was a princess, Lacey was a survivalist. She hadn't been able to live in Belle's shadow. Wherever she went, she was the messed up sister. So she did what she had to, took a loan from none other than her brother-in-law, and skipped down. She was just as fucked up in Boston, doing odd jobs, living in a trashy apartment with six other girls, two of whom were hookers. But at least here she wasn't her twin's shadow. She knew she had broken her deal with Gold, yet he didn't come chasing. Belle never got in touch nor did Moe. Until that dreaded call came, six months later. It was her papa. "Lacey, it's Belle. She died." She had slammed the phone, packed her meagre belongings in a rucksack and ran to Storybooke. 

Belle had died in child birth. Their daughter, too, was very weak. She didn't survive for more than six minutes. Gold was shattered. He clutched his wife's lifeless body and sobbed. The cruel pawnbroker had lost his control. He was bedraggled and in a daze when she reached, just in time for the funeral. It was quite ironic, she wore one of Belle's dresses, nothing of hers was appropriate. When she slinked in, her eyes red with crying for her sister, Gold's eyes had immediately locked on to her. "Belle." It was a reverent whisper. She had shaken her head. "It's me, Lacey." The brokenness in his eyes was far too much. They had buried Belle with her daughter, Eve, they called her. Gold had payed a bomb for a memorial to his wife. It was a huge mounting structure, engraved with roses and chipped teacups. It read ~Belle Gold, a wife, mother and daughter. She will be loved forever.~ Lacey had to hold back a scream. It didn't say sister. Like she had never mattered. She had held her father, whispering reassurances to him. She knew she would have to remain in Storybooke and pick up the pieces. Gold had stayed in the cemetery that whole night. He wouldn't move.

The next day he had come to their house. "You owe me." He looked half mad, delirious with pain. "I am not sure this is the right time, Mr Gold. You lost your wife, I lost my sister." Lacey had said, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Oh this is the perfect time. You will come with me, you will be my Belle. You look just like her." He clutched at her, pulling her into his arms. "My Belle, my sweet Belle. I won't lose you." She was stiff against him. How she had yearned to be held like that! "Mr. Gold please... This is wrong." She whined. "Shhh...Shut up... you feel just like her." It seemed to relax Gold in some way, the illusion of having his wife in his arms. "You want me to forget that you owe me 20 grand and that I have a contract that will send you straight to jail right after seizing all your father's property. You will come with me. Be my Belle." He had a maniac glimmer in his eyes, obsessed with having his wife back.

That was two and a half years ago. Or at least that's what she thought. The days seemed to have merged together, a blur. She couldn't really remember her time in Boston so well or what the name of the girls who lived with her or what Belle had been buried in. It was a daze. She had learnt to act like Belle would, sit in her chair, drink those awful English teas and pretend to be lost in a book. All so that she could get one tender smile from Gold, a kiss on the forehead. He knew she wasn't Belle. He had snapped out of it quite soon. Yet he let her be there. Fill that whole. She was like a walking, breathing picture of his wife. She could pretend he was in love with her, pretend that he didn't shower for two hours in blistering hot water every time he made love to her, that he didn't moan Belle's name every time he came, that he would love her for being herself, not a doppelganger of her sister. "Did you make tea?" He barked. Today seemed diffrent to her, there was a heaviness in the air, like something big was going to happen. It never did in Storybooke. 

"Yes, Mr. Gold." She poured some of the honeyed tea in his chipped tea cup. He called it Belle's cup. Some obscure story about her dropping it on their first date. "Good girl." He kissed her forehead. She smiled. "It's rent day, Be..Lacey. I will be late, don't wait up." But they both knew she would. She would sit on the couch, the television set to some random channel and she'd say she lost track of time. She had done that so many times. She didn't even remember. She couldn't sleep unless he was back. He would shrug and tell her to come to bed. She would undress him, just like Belle used to, but he would catch her wrist and shake his head before she pulled down his boxers. They would go to bed. If it was a good night, he would hold her. If it was a bad one, he would turn around and sleep. She wished she could tell him she loved him. She had done it once. He had flinched and left the house. He came back the next morning. Seeing the dirt smeared on him, she knew he had slept on Belle's grave. They never spoke of that day again. He combed his hair and wore his suit. He handed her the tie. She stood on her tip toes and wove it around his neck, set to perfection. He ruffled her hair, a bit of affection to carry her through the day and he left. It was a very normal day. She flicked through the newspaper, cooked lunch and watched television. She was a kept woman, she didn't have to work. She then lounged in the library, skimming through the books, some so familiar, even though she hadn't read them. She walked to the cemetery, placing a bunch of wild flowers on Belle's grave, the bright red rose that Gold kept there every morning, a slight stab. She stuffed her hands in her pockets, going to Granny's for a hot coca. People didn't say a word about her anymore. She was the town beast's keep, the only tether keeping him sane. She saw a bright yellow car tumble inside the town. She frowned. No one usually visited Storybooke. She shrugged it off and walked on.

Mr. Gold went about the motions of collecting rent mechanically. He missed the days when Belle accompanied him, the softness to his hard edges. There was some drama at Regina's so he waited and watched, he had had something against the Mayor. He saw it was a tussle with some blonde, probably Kathryn Nolan, it had already made him late and Widow Lucas was left. He hoped the old hag didn't give him trouble. His ankle was hurting like a bitch. He should have taken the car. He picked a slow pace, to ease out his leg. By the time he reached the Inn she was attending to someone. "Emma. Emma Swan." He heard. It was like a dam, bursting into his head. Baelfire, the curse, Snow White and Charming. Belle. His Belle, alive, waiting for him at his house. She hadn't died. It was a false memory! Lacey was Belle! "Emma. What a lovely name." He took the money and ran as fast as he could to his house. "You're alive. You're alive." He grabbed the stunned girl and smashed his lips against hers. She kissed him back and he could feel the clutches of magic leaving her. "Rumple?" She was confused. "Oh Belle. It's me. You are alive." He sobbed. "The baby, Lacey, you..." She stammered. "They were all false memories, love. There never was a baby. It was just you. I love you." He gasped brokenly. "I love you too Rumple." The curse hadn't gone, but they were free. The saviour was already returning the happy endings to Storybooke.


End file.
